


A Soft Touch

by Anonymous



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works, The Hobbit (2012), The Hobbit - All Media Types, j - Fandom
Genre: Ficlet, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-17
Updated: 2012-12-17
Packaged: 2017-11-21 09:10:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/595978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bilbo is there and everything is right again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Soft Touch

Bilbo awakened at the sound of Thorin's voice. It was nightfall and their feast provided by the elves of Rivendell had long passed. The hobbit thought that he could sleep peacefully and forever in the comfort of the soft as feathers bed he rested on. The noises Thorin was making sounded muffled through the walls of the room Bilbo had next to the dwarf, but he could hear the distress in his voice. Bilbo could hear the mumbling of a language he did not yet know much of, but he knew the slight moans of anguish and fervent whimpers were that made due of a nightmare. 

The hobbit remembered what Balin had told him of Thorin's loathing of elves. And through their travels he had not ever heard the dwarf prince ever make a sound so distraught. Maybe the profound halls of Rivendell triggered those deep dark memories of lives lost and dragon's fire and the betrayal of elves as they turned their backs to Thorin and his people. 

Bilbo was up out of bed before he even could realize what he was going to do. Thorin was no hobbit or child to be soothed and comforted but that fact did not make Bilbo any less compassionate. He stepped out of his room quietly on tip toe to the one next door. He only paused when he saw the familiar figure of Gandalf a few rooms down, the darkened hallway cloaked him in shadow but the slight nod of approval from the wizard was the invitation Bilbo needed to enter the dwarf's room.

Thorin had tossed off his comforter and settled for wringing it in his massive hands. He took no notice of his door being opened and shut again and the silent steps of Bilbo hesitantly coming to his bedside. His thick, dark locks of hair was strayed about his pillow, some of it covering half his face as it clung to his sweaty brow. 

Bilbo thought of what to do. His hands fiddled over the belt of the light silk tunic the elves gave him to sleep in, before he slowly reached over and touched the back of Thorin's hand. With his smaller fingers enclosing it and patting it deftly.

A moment of this surprising tenderness made Thorin still. His large fingers unclenched from the sheets and laid idle on the bed. Then came a whisper of a name. Bilbo figured that it was so for the dwarf prince lamented it so sweetly. A love lost, the hobbit imagined. 

The oddness of this scene would go unnoticed to the other dwarves and maybe Thorin himself as his eyes remained closed. Bilbo knew he would realize that dwarves were not unlike him. He knew what Thorin wanted for his people. Having a home, a shelter, a place in the world that was your own was what any well to do hobbit, elf, or man could agree on. He raked the loose strands of hair from the prince's face, letting it fall in place with the rest of his mane spilled about the pillows. Bilbo grasped the comforter and pulled it over the dwarf. He lingered for a bit longer, amazed that someone so fierce could look so tranquil in slumber.

Finally, the hobbit retreated, going out as quietly as he came in. And as he pulled shut the door, he did not notice the prince's eyes watching him leave.


End file.
